Fixing Bella
by CullensTwiMistress
Summary: When newly-single contractor, Edward, takes on work for uptight designer, Isabella Swan, he soon finds out she may just be more than what he bargained for. AH; ExB; EPOV.
1. Chapter 1

Fixing Bella

When newly-single contractor, Edward, takes on work for uptight designer Isabella Swan, he soon finds out she may just be more than what he bargained for. AH; ExB; EPOV.

* * *

1.

Sitting at my desk for the first time in two days, I finally listen to the messages on my phone.

I've been avoiding doing it for long enough, and need to stop being such a motherfucking pussy. I broke up with her, whether or not she likes it isn't my problem anymore. She needs to get a clue, and get off my dick already.

Plus, I really need to see if any of the fifteen messages are about upcoming jobs.

I've just finished working on the Newton house, renovating their kitchen, and I'm supposed to start on the Yorkie's master suite next Monday, but after that I have nothing lined up for a few weeks, and need to fill in that time period.

Being a contractor is demanding work. Long hours and...interesting customers sometimes makes my job hell, but then again I work for myself and only hire a helper when I need to. I get to pick and choose which customers to work with, and when the project is completed they're usually beyond happy with the end result.

I'm good at what I do. Working with my hands and taking on complete renovations, varying from kitchen remodels to bathroom makeovers. I usually hire skilled tradesmen for certain things like electrical and plumbing, but I oversee it and make sure it's completed in time and on budget.

I bang my head against my desk and sigh as I listen to Angela's voice drone on and on about our future, and how I've screwed things up.

She's an amazing woman. Beautiful, smart and sweet, with a banging body and legs that go all the way to Heaven, but she wants things I'm not ready for...at least not with her.

After six months, I couldn't handle the pressure of her wanting me to put a ring on her finger. I'm thirty four, and getting up there in age, yet for some reason I just couldn't do it. I wasn't in love with her and couldn't keep dragging her along with me, knowing full well that I may never be ready for what she wanted.

When I finally manned up and told her, she called me an asshole and threw a drink in my face, before walking out of the bar.

And called me fifteen minutes later to apologize saying we could work through it.

I've never seen Ang so frazzled, but as much as it pained me to admit, she's better off finding someone who can love her as she deserves and give her what she needs.

Her messages go on and on, giving me the third degree about how she misses me and how we had made plans for the holidays. At some point, I start deleting the messages as soon as I hear her voice.

Reaching inside my shirt pocket, I find my nicotine fix and lighter. I don't smoke much, but listening to Angela's shrill voice is putting me on edge and I need this right now.

I light up a cig and inhale the smoke deep into my lungs, letting it nestle itself there before expelling it, feeling myself relax with every second that goes by as the smoke swirls around me.

I hang my head back against the headrest of my overstuffed office chair, hopeful that opening a window will allow the smoke to leave my office without any lingering smell. I don't usually light up inside. This is an exception. Today, everything seems to be turning around for me.

After listening to the eleventh message, I've almost given up finding something worthwhile, even contemplating just chucking the phone entirely and getting a new one.

And that's when I hear _her _voice.

"_Ehmm, Mr. Cullen? This is Isabella Swan, from Swan Interiors. I was wondering if you could give me a call. I'd like to discuss a project with you. I got your references from Mrs. Harvey, and thought you'd be a perfect fit. Anyway, you can reach me at 555-__7926__."_

I scribble the number in my address book along with her name, and proceed to listen to the rest of Angela's angry musings.

By message number fifteen, she's accepting the fact that we're no longer a couple and is wishing me a happy life.

And I've killed three cigs and shaved five years off my life expectancy. Fuck.

Turning off my phone, I scrub my hands over my face, Jesus, I need to get a grip, and concentrate on my fucking business.

I have goals, and being tied down right now interferes with those goals. This is what I keep reminding myself. It's my motto. For now anyway.

My business is going well. I have a lot of regular clients that keep me busy, along with some other bigger jobs that seem to go on forever.

I've almost got enough money saved up to buy the plot of land I want to build my dream house on. Almost. The damn thing sits on the edge of town, near the river, and is surrounded by forest and wildlife. I love it there and I've wanted to live in that area ever since I was a little kid.

Unfortunately, it's pretty expensive and since I already own this building - where I have my office on the first floor and a small loft apartment on the second - I refuse to borrow any more than I have to from the bank. Those fuckers would screw over their own mothers if they could.

I have an account I use as float to buy supplies and finance certain expenses, and once clients pay me, I top it off and put the balance in a separate one - the dream house one.

Angela was a bump in the road. We had something special, but I can't explain it, being with her felt like there was something missing. As good as she was for me, and to me, that spark between us barely flickered.

I want more than that. Maybe it's wishful thinking, but I want what my parents have...total and utter loving devotion. I may never find it, who knows. For now, I just know it wasn't with Angela, and I'm glad she's letting it go too.

My phone's incessant ringing brings me back to the present, and I make sure to look at the caller ID before answering, thankful that it's an unknown caller and not Ang's number.

"Cullen Construction." My voice cracks and I clear my throat, reminding myself that I need to quit smoking as I wait for whoever's on the other end to say something. "Hello? Anyone there?"

I take a deep breath and roll my eyes. Dammit, this better not be some lame joke, I am not in the mood.

"_I'm sorry," _a female voice starts, _"I dropped my pen. So, is this Mr. Cullen?"_

"Yes, this is him." I press my hand against my forehead and lean on my arm, cradling the phone between my chin and shoulder, while holding a pen in my right hand. "How can I help you?"

"_This is Isabella Swan, from Swan Interiors." _As she says her name, the voice registers in my mind. It's the voice from earlier - smooth and deep, almost sensual. _"I was just calling to see if you'd like to meet with me to discuss a job I'd like to have done."_

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was just going to call you back, Mrs. Swan," I apologize.

"_Oh__,__ that's quite alright, with a reputation like yours, I'm sure you're a busy man,"_ she teases, except the sound of her voice makes my dick twitch. What the fuck is the matter with me?

Dammit, now I'm analyzing people's voices over the phone. Seriously, breaking it off with Ang may have fucked with my mind _and _my cock.

Clearing my throat and praying she's some old lady in her sixties, I ask, "When would this need to be done?"

"_Well, the customers aren't around. This was their dream house and they're still living in their old home, which is a rental. I assure you, you'll have all the time you need. If you meet me there, I can tell you what is involved and you tell me __if you'd like the job, and __when you'd be available to complete the work." _She sounds confident, her voice never wavering, but I can't help feeling like I'm missing something.

After agreeing to meet up later, we hang up and I take a quick shower, making sure to look presentable for my new, perspective client.

* * *

**So last week, I felt like handing out a challenge to some fellow chickies, and a few of them responded. This past week, we've been writing up a storm, and this weekend we're all posting our little stories.**

**Please check out the others...**

Always Remember by WitchyVampireGirl

The Vines We Weave by Twiddler83

Fall in Love by BellaEdwardlover1991

**They're in my faves on my profile...**

**A huge thank you to Midnight Cougar for being a trooper and betaing this thing for me. That woman is a saint, I swear!**

**xox**

**Missy**


	2. Chapter 2

2.

The drive toward the address Isabella had given me is very familiar. I hold back a groan as I whip past lush trees, down the dirt road where the clearing leading toward the house is located.

The driveway is long and narrow, winding toward a large opening. I can hear water rustling and nature bubbling all around me, the noises soothing my jealousy.

I can't help the green eyed monster welling up and taking residence. The property I have my eye on is a few miles down the bank, and nowhere as beautiful as this one.

I want this job, if not for the money then just for the opportunity to come here every day and work.

Parking my truck, I notice how the house seems to stand tall but is blemished by many unfinished finishing touches. The conversation I had with Isabella rings in my ear. Something she'd said about how it _was _their dream house.

It makes me wonder about what's going on inside, and who the fuck would do something like this to such a beautiful home.

I get out of the truck and lean against it, taking out a cig and lighting it. The smoke billows around me and calms my frazzled nerves.

Jesus, this is bad. I'm never usually nervous about potential clients, yet here I am, actually wanting to work here. I don't know what's going on inside that house, but judging from the outside, it's like some work was done but nothing was completed.

The house has a beautiful modern look, with large windows and natural wood and stone siding. There's a porch that seems to wrap all around the front and side of the house. I'm not sure it goes all the way to the back, but it definitely should as the house backs onto the view of the river.

There's a large garage attached to one side of the house with space for at least three vehicles. Whoever these people are, they're obviously loaded.

Before I can wander around the property any further, crunching of tires can be heard from down the road, signalling an oncoming vehicle.

I take a final pull from my cig and throw it on the ground in front of me, stomping it with my boot until it's completely unrecognizable and blended in with the gravel. I make a mental note to bring an ashtray. I'm pretty sure these folks wouldn't like a shitload of butts scattered around their house.

By the time I've quickly shoved some spearmint gum in my mouth, a little green Audi comes barrelling around the corner and takes a spot beside my truck.

Taking a few steps, I watch as a petite brunette steps out of the small car and stands, reaching inside the back seat for her briefcase. As she walks over to meet me, I notice how simply beautiful she is.

Her face is framed with dark brown, wavy hair, cascading past her shoulders. She's short and curvy in all the right places.

With her light green eyes trained on me, I smile politely and nod in greeting. Her lips curl up in a beautiful smile, as her tongue peaks out and swipes over her bottom lip, making it glisten.

"Mr. Cullen?" And her voice, fuck, how am I going to survive this meeting?

Clearing my throat, I move away from my truck and stand at my full height. At six foot three, I tower over her, making her look up at me and fuck if she's not the hottest little thing I've seen in a while.

"Isabella Swan?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

She nods, her eyes flickering from my face to my shoulders and back, and motions for us to go inside.

"So, as you can see," she starts, "there are a lot of little things that were left unfinished by the previous contractor." She's clearly all business, but I can't help letting my eyes roam over her ass as she climbs the steps to the front door.

"That's an understatement," I scoff, unable to hold it back. Thankfully, she says nothing.

As we walk around the house, I notice how bare the walls are. There's no trim anywhere. No doors have been installed for any of the rooms. There's no flooring. The bathrooms are a disaster. The kitchen is incomplete, as all of the cabinets are sitting in the garage.

"The ehm...contractor who started this was fired by the homeowner. Think of this as a...'war of the roses' type of situation," she explains. "My client has asked that I take care of all the details so we can put this property on the market. It's...unfortunate, really. As you can see," she sighs wistfully, looking around, "it was supposed to be a beautiful home."

"Well, I don't see any issues. I'll need to get in touch with an electrician and a plumber to make sure that everything was done properly. After that, it's a question of making it look good," I explain. Looking around a bit closer, I notice finer details that seem to have been overlooked. Like the fact that the lighting fixtures aren't centered properly in the dining room. I'm a picky motherfucker, but that's why I'm good.

"Yes, well, do what you have to." She looks around, her eyes taking in our surroundings. "I have some plans and sketches that will give you a better idea of what this place was supposed to look like. You can let me know the approximate cost and timeframe, and I'll discuss it with my client."

She turns and starts walking toward the door, and I'm a little gobsmacked. "I'm sorry, are you leaving me alone here, Mrs. Swan?"

She turns on her heels, cocking her head to one side, narrowed eyes trained on me. "Well, if I can't trust you now, I won't be able to trust you later, Mr. Cullen. Besides, there's nothing here to steal." She smirks. "I expect a call in the morning. Lock the door behind you."

With those last words, she opens the door, gives me a last look that clearly says "don't fuck with me," and closes it behind her.

Taken aback by her brash demeanor, I make the rounds, assessing each room and making notes on what needs to be completed.

An hour later, I'm leaning against my truck with a cig in my mouth when I notice papers and a note on the front seat of my truck.

Written on a Post-it note on top of a pile in perfectly straight block letters is: "Please don't smoke inside the house."

"What the hell?" I cough and sputter, wondering how the hell she even noticed, and then start looking through the pile of paperwork.

There are blueprints and sketches as she'd promised, along with some paint samples and a list of supplies such as flooring and light fixtures.

She's very organized, and for some reason this makes me smile as I think of the abrupt, yet pretty girl I just met.

She barely looked at me, and didn't talk much. She was all business and called me out on smoking, which I can respect.

This is going to be fucking interesting, that's for damn sure.

...

After calculating everything and contacting the plumber and electrician that were listed on the contact information Isabella had left me, I'm able to come up with a sizable but acceptable fee amount and considerable time frame.

"_Six weeks," _she repeats to herself when I call her to let her know my findings. Fuck, six weeks isn't very long considering how much crap there is to fix, but according to Felix and Ben, the plumber and electrician, their work was done well so it's all on me. _"When can you start, Mr. Cullen?"_

"I'm busy all of next week, but the first week in July seems plausible." Looking at my calendar, I notice how I've got a few small things scattered. Painting Mrs. Cope's kitchen. Installing Mrs. Mallory's cat door. Putting up shelves in the Stanley's garage. These jobs seem trivial and reserved more for a handyman, but these people trust me and know I'm going to do it right. Besides, they add up and I can do them when I'm not too busy doing bigger projects. Money, is fucking money.

"_Sounds good, Mr. Cullen. I'll give you a call sometime next week__; we'll sign the work contract, and __arrange for you to get a set of keys," _she confirms.

I suppose I've gotten the job, which is good because being there on that parcel of land will make me want to work harder. Or, at least that's what I tell myself as the realization washes over me.

"It's Edward, actually," I reply needing her to stop with the Mr. Cullen bullshit. I should have straightened that out right from the get go, but apparently pretty girls are distracting.

And I kind of liked watching her lips move, and hearing the breathy way her voice sounded, every time she said, "Mr. Cullen."

But seeing as we're most likely not going to see each other very often, I may as well get this fucking show on the road.

"_Well, Edward," _she starts, and the sound of my first name rolling off her lips does strange things to my body. I don't know how she can make my skin break out into goosebumps, and my dick hard as steel with that simple word, but I have to bite my knuckle and take a deep breath to stop myself from groaning into the receiver. Chances are I'd lose this job if she knew what a depraved fuck I really am. _"I'll be sure to remember that. Talk to you later."_

The line goes silent, and I pray I haven't said anything out loud that would scare the living shit out of any chick.

…

The week goes by and I complete the master suite reno faster than expected. It looks beautiful, and of course the customers are fucking ecstatic. With Jasper's help, I managed to make their seventies nightmare into a modern oasis.

Jasper is a custom cabinet maker, an excellent carpenter, and also my best friend. He's able to build anything I dream up, which is awesome because I have some pretty fucked up dreams at times.

Taking advantage of a whole extra free day, I make the rounds finishing those odd jobs here and there. By the end of the day, Mrs. Cope's kitchen has gotten two coats of paint, and Mrs. Mallory's cat can go outside on its own. It's been a productive day, and I've managed to get Mrs. Cope's daughter-in-law interested in changing out her old carpet for some hardwood floors.

When I get home, there's an envelope in my mailbox with a key inside, a short contract for me to sign and fax back, and a note in the same block lettering: "Sorry, I almost forgot, you'll need this key for Monday."

Frowning, I take out my phone and dial Isabella's number. She doesn't answer. And I don't leave a message.

* * *

**A huge thank you to Midnight Cougar for being a trooper and betaing this thing for me. That woman is a saint, I swear!**

**xox**

**Missy**


	3. Chapter 3

**Because I keep forgetting to say it, I own nothing Twilighty...**

* * *

3.

Monday morning comes with many surprises.

One being that Isabella never even comes to the house. She's left me notes and plans, but no real contact whatsoever. This is fucking weird, but I figure she may actually be busy. I mean, since this house is to be sold, there's no use for her to check on progress twenty times a day, right?

I start with the larger things. Installing interior doors, and making sure all the walls are ready for priming and painting. By the end of the day, I've barely managed to scrub the surface of what needs to be done, but it's been a good day nonetheless.

On Tuesday, I survey the cabinetry and measure out the kitchen, making sure everything will fit. The cabinets are a dark oak finish, with a classic inlay design. There are marble pieces of countertop hidden away in a corner of the garage that will clearly make the cabinets stand out.

I don't think I could have picked anything better for this house. Isabella has some incredible taste, and judging from the house plans and sketches she's left me, her work speaks for itself. She's very detail-oriented, and it shows in what she does.

With Jasper's help, by Thursday, the cabinets are in place and the kitchen starts to look like an actual kitchen, save for the appliances.

On Friday, Jasper helps me put together the bathroom cabinetry and some of the custom trim work for the living room, and I make an appointment with Felix on Monday to come hook up the rest of the plumbing.

I've gone the entire week without seeing nor hearing anything from Isabella, so I decide to give her a call before the end of the day and pray she actually answers my call.

"_Swan Interiors__.__"_ Her voice is softer than usual, tired.

"Mrs. Swan, this is Edward Cullen." Running a hand through my hair, I listen as she inhales deeply and sighs at the other end of the line.

"_I'm so sorry, Edward. I've had so many commitments over the last few weeks. I promise I'm usually more...hands on. I'll be there Monday morning and we can do a walk through and __you can __show me how much progress you've made." _She says all of this in one breath, leaving me feeling as though she's busy, and has no time for my call.

"Sounds good, Mrs. Swan. See you Monday," I reply, resigned.

I'm about to hang up when I hear her say softly, _"It's Bella. Call me, Bella."_

"See you Monday, Bella." My face breaks out into a shit eating grin as her nickname rolls off my tongue. She certainly is a "Bella."

…

Jasper and I make plans to go out Saturday night.

My muscles are sore from the week I've had, but I like the feeling. It lets me know I've worked hard, and gets me through those days where I feel like I've accomplished nothing, when in reality, I've most likely spent the day crunching numbers and pushing around paperwork like I've done all afternoon. My muscles don't fucking know that though, and are clearly retaliating.

With a resigned sigh, I crack my neck and pray I make it through the evening as Jasper's wingman. He has a thing for the waitress at Breaking Twilight, the bar down the street from his house, and apparently going there with me is going to help him break the ice.

We meet up out front of the club, and I can already tell this is not my kind of place. "Country music, man. Are you fucking trying to kill me?"

"Dude, this chick," he shakes his head, "she's worth it. You'll see." He claps a hand over my already sore shoulder, making me flinch back in pain.

"Jesus, you fucker, watch what you're doing," I seethe through clenched teeth. Taking a deep breath, I rotate the muscle, feeling the burn as it stretches and knots itself. "Fucking shoulder injury," I mumble in pain as Jasper stretches his lean body upright to look over the crowd.

"Fuck, she's not behind the bar," he muses making me roll my eyes in annoyance. "Oh, there she is." He points to a petite brunette with short, spiky hair and an obvious flair for the unusual.

"Have you ever even spoken to her, dude?" We push past the crowd of people until we're standing a few feet from his dream girl's table.

She's sitting alone, nursing some fruity blue drink, and Jasper grins, wiggling his eyebrows. "This is great, she's not working tonight."

"Yeah, I'm going to go get a drink, you want me to bring you anything?" He doesn't answer me, and waves me off as the cute bartender - who's clearly not working this evening - grins and winks at him.

Standing at the bar and waiting for the bartender to bring me a couple of beers, I watch as Jasper takes a seat next to his girl. Apparently my wingman super powers won't be needed here tonight. If I'm lucky, I can sneak out soon. Wouldn't that be grand?

"Here you go." I hand Jasper his beer and take a seat across from his girl. "I'm Edward." I grin and nod curtly before taking a swig from my beer bottle. I probably don't come across as very nice right now, but I'm a little irritated.

Between the fact that my fucking shoulder hurts like a mofo, and that I'm clearly not needed anymore, they're playing some twangy eighties music over the speaker, and I'd rather be deaf than listen to that shit.

No, scratch that, it's going to make me go deaf in about five more minutes because I'm going to start clawing out my own ears.

"Relax, man." Jasper leans into me and motions to his friend. "This is Alice."

She grins. "Nice to meet you, Edward."

"Hey Alice." I lean forward and watch Jasper's eyes darken a little. "You good with this fucker?" I nod toward Jasper. "'Cause I've gotta go, and I'm supposed to be his wingman."

She giggles and makes googly eyes at Jasper, then leans forward to talk to me. "I think we're good, Edward. Thanks. Too bad you can't stay; I'm meeting my sister here in a few."

I shake my head, the noise overwhelming me. "I can't. This," I motion toward the ceiling and then to the people on the dance floor line dancing, "sucks shit. I fucking can't stay here with this."

She snorts and leans into Jasper, holding her hand over her mouth, and her face turning red.

I turn to face Jasper, who's looking at the petite girl currently clutching to his shirt and giggling, and he looks like he's about to shit his pants.

With a last salute, I polish off my beer and stand. "It's been great." I point to Jasper, and in a warning tone add, "You two, be safe."

My job here is done, and I walk out of the bar relieved beyond anything that I actually made it without killing anyone. From the twitching going on behind my left eye, it's about time I stop listening to _Achy Breaky Heart._

…

I spend Sunday with an ice pack over my shoulder. I'm not sure what I did to anger it, but fuck, this means I'm going to need help over at the _Swan _house.

I call Jasper to make sure he's free. He's the best I've got, and we have a lot of trim work left to do as well as a custom shelving unit in one of the rooms.

"_Man, Alice's sister was a mess," _he starts when I ask how his Saturday night went.

"Yeah? So I didn't miss anything, huh?" I grin, thankful I dodged that bullet.

"_You missed her by about half an hour, and she was already drunk when she got there," _he states.

"Ha," I chuckle darkly. "I bet that was a pleasant evening then."

"_The poor girl. She's going through a rough time. Alice introduced us, but all she did was drink and make comments about the couples dancing together. Apparently she just got through a messy divorce."_

"Remind me not to go there." I shake my head, thinking of how fucking pathetic that must feel. "I bet that put a damper in your evening though."

"_Nah, she was nice just...a little...judgemental. She's twenty seven and already has a nasty divorce under her belt. That's got to suck."_

"I can imagine." And I can, this is probably Jasper's way of saying she was a raging bitch, of course, he'd never say that about a chick. He's Jasper - all gentlemanly and sweet - never says anything bad about anyone. "So, did you ask Alice out?"

"_Yeah, we're going out next weekend." _I can practically hear his smile through the phone line.

"That's awesome, man. Listen, I gotta go, my shoulder is killing me. See you tomorrow though, right?" Cracking my neck, I feel the tension there, still throbbing and pulling at it.

"_Yeah, about that. I may be in a little late. I've got an install, and I can't reschedule. It shouldn't take all morning, but I'll call you when I'm done."_

With a resigned sigh, we say our goodbyes and I pray that my shoulder is well enough to at least let me do some of the minor things that need to be done.

…

Smoke billows out of my nose and into the warm July air, birds overhead sing their praises, and I watch as ducks land on the lake behind the house.

I'm here early, but I couldn't resist. Sitting here on the back porch, drinking coffee, smoking a cig, and just being, relaxes me more than any of the meds I've taken over the last few days.

"I told you not to smoke in the house." Bella's harsh voice breaks me out of my Zen state.

I turn my head and look up at her. Fuck, she looks even angrier than she sounds. And hot. Angry looks very hot on Bella Swan.

"I'm technically outside," I challenge.

"Yes, well it's a disgusting habit." She turns on her heels - giving me a great view of her ass in that short skirt she's wearing - and makes it a production to quickly get inside the house and close the door.

Stubbing out my smoke, I put the rest of it in my pack before pulling myself up and following her inside.

"I'm sorry, Bella, but I was outside. Besides, I'm here early as fuck-" I pinch my lips shut and take a deep breath, realizing I've let that brain-to-mouth filter get the best of me. Rubbing my palm behind my neck nervously, I continue, "Look, I don't smoke inside the house. Hell, if it'll make you feel any better, I'm trying to quit."

She rolls her eyes, clicking her tongue, clearly annoyed. "Whatever. Let's get this show on the road so I can leave you to do your job."

And for some reason, hearing her all breathy, annoyed and visibly flustered leaves me in a state of arousal I wasn't sure could even happen this early on a Monday morning.

"Fuck," I groan lowly as I enter the kitchen. Bella is bent over the kitchen sink, looking outside the window with her ass up in the air and her body stretched out over the counter. Her height isn't working for her here, but it's giving me some great mental imagery.

When she hears me, she quickly stands and walks around the kitchen, clearly in awe of what she sees. "This is...beautiful."

"You have no idea," I reply quietly, thankful that she truly doesn't know what I'm talking about.

I watch and follow behind her as she makes her way into the main floor bathroom where we've put together the cabinets, and all that's needed is for the plumber to go underneath and hook it all up. "This is exactly as it should have been, Edward."

I watch her frown as she looks into the living room, on the far wall where we haven't quite finished assembling the shelving and trim that goes on either side of the fireplace. "We're finishing that today," I admit, and she simply nods in response.

We've gotten a lot done in a week, but there is plenty left to do. Painting and final trim work is probably the most time consuming, and those are the things I'm doing by myself.

As good as Jasper is with a chisel, I don't trust him with a paintbrush to save his own life.

"Well, you're clearly on schedule, Edward." She looks around the entrance, and up at the light fixture that's not quite centered over the door. "Do you think...?" She points to it and scrunches up her nose.

I smirk. "And the one in the dining room?"

"Oh my God," she starts, her eyes dancing with excitement, "I tried to tell them over and over, but they wouldn't listen. Ugh, I swear...anyway, yes, please fix the one in the dining room as well." She shakes her head, and a look of sadness passes over her beautiful features. "Anyway, I've got to go. Good job, Edward. Thank you."

I watch as she wordlessly walks out the door, and for some reason, hearing her tell me I've done a good job makes my heart beat a little faster.

Groaning, I rotate my shoulder, closing my eyes as the burn ebbs and settles. I then pick up my tool belt in hopes that I can fix some more of the little dents and imperfections in this big, beautiful house.

* * *

**So...what my last A/N should have said was that this story was written because I wrote Hardward, instead of Hardware in a doc at work...and then the girls in my FB group encouraged me to write this. Midnight Cougar then suggested some prompts, and voila! **

**Thank you all that have reviewed, taken guesses (some of you are right on!) and read this little story.**

**xox**

**Missy**


	4. Chapter 4

4.

"I am not meeting your girlfriend's sister. No... Shit, make that your girlfriend's _divorced _sister," I tell Jasper pointedly.

"_Alice was married too, man. It doesn't take anything away from who she is,"_ he admonishes.

"Whatever, dude." I can't tell him I don't want to go on a date with anyone. After Angela, dating hasn't been my focus, besides there's this other woman that's kind of growing on me like a bad fungus.

It's been a few weeks and I'm making a lot of progress in the Swan house. Bella hasn't been there much while I'm there, and I'm starting to get weary. I miss seeing her, and that just makes me feel all creepy.

She goes there at night after I've gone home, and leaves me fucking little yellow Post-it notes with her square draftsmen's scrawl written over them. She lets me know whether or not she likes something and thankfully seems pleased with my work.

But sometimes, the little notes are annoying as hell. Yesterday, I had one by the kitchen door, reminding me to lock it before leaving. Like I didn't know. Please, what am I, twelve?

And a few days ago, there was one on the mantle reminding me that it needed to be painted an accent color. Seriously, I have the plans and sketches, and I _can _read.

It's annoying and condescending on so many levels.

But in spite of all this, I'd still like to see her once in a while. We've spoken on the phone a few times, and I understand she's busy, but Seattle's not that big. The least she could do is make the drive over there during the day.

"_Dude, Alice is adamant that B has to come with us, and I don't know who else to ask," _he pleads, his voice bringing me back to the now.

"How about she brings one of her girlfriends? I'm seriously not in the mood to be bitched at because I have a dick." I take a cig out of my pack and walk out to my backyard.

He chuckles lowly, and I contemplate just hanging up the phone. _"Alice says she's not as...sombre as she was __that night__. Plus, I've only met her once, and she was drunk at the time."_

"Drunk or not," I inhale, letting the smoke settle there for a moment before slowly exhaling, "if she bitches at me one time because I'm male, or compares me to any guy she dated, I'm warning you, I'm out of there."

"_I thought you stopped smoking?" _he asks and I can hear the judgement in his voice.

"Fuck you, man. I'm doing you enough favors today. I'll see you later. And by the way, remind Alice that this is _not _a date." Hanging up the phone before he can chastise me anymore, I close my eyes and smoke the rest of my cigarette, peacefully relaxing to the loud boisterous noises of the city.

Rolling my eyes at myself, I make a mental note that I hate the city, and everything it encompasses.

…

"So Edward," Alice starts, "please tell me why this isn't a date?"

I turn to Jasper who's doing his best to concentrate on the menu in front of him, before answering through clenched teeth, "Well, Alice, first off, I don't know the first thing about your sister. Secondly, I don't do blind dates. And thirdly-"

"He has a serious thing for his boss lady," Jasper finishes for me, snickering and keeping his eyes trained on his menu.

I eye him wearily. "I hate you, dude."

"Ohh," Alice claps excitedly, "do tell."

"I don't...she's not...I'm a contractor, dammit. She hired me to finish a house, and that's all I'm doing." I turn to Jasper. "I don't have a crush on Bella."

As the words leave my mouth, Alice starts choking on her water. Jasper jumps out of his chair and starts patting her back and fawning all over her, while Alice coughs and sputters, her face turning red while her eyes are trained on me. "Bella?" she sputters once more and I nod. "Bella Swan?" she asks again.

"What? Do you know her?" She has my attention all of a sudden. There's nothing wrong with getting a little inside information. Fuck, it's not like I'll ever ask her out.

Well, maybe. I have a week of work left to do at the house, maybe after that... Maybe I could leave her a Post-it note...

Alice smoothes down her hair and runs her fingers under her eyes, fixing her mascara or whatever shit chicks put on their faces. "Bella." She smiles brightly, her eyes leaving mine to look behind me.

I'm not sure what to make of her expression, but when her face breaks out in a shit eating grin and Jasper's mouth drops open, I turn in my seat to look behind me.

"Edward?" Bella frowns, then looks around at the two other people sitting with us. "Alice, what's going on?"

I'm dumbstruck and unable to speak as my mouth opens and closes, but no words escape.

_Dafuck_?

I watch as Alice turns to Jasper, then to Bella, and back to me. "Well, ehm, Edward, this is my sister, Bella. But I call her B, for short." She chews her thumbnail and turns back to Bella. "I swear I had no idea this was _the _Edward." She emphasized the "the."

_The _Edward? What. The. Fuck?

I look to Jasper who's found something particularly appealing in the menu, and then turn my attention to Bella. "I'm sorry about this. I swear, I didn't know."

She clenches her jaw, and gives me a tight smile. "It's fine."

_Fine_. Ha! Woman speak for "fuck you." _I'm screwed..._

"Really, I had no idea about this, about you," I emphasize, frowning, but hopeful that she'll relax a little.

She turns to me, narrowing her eyes. "I said it was _fine_, Edward."

"I get that, but you sure as shit don't look _fine_," I reply harshly.

She laughs humorlessly. "Yeah, you'd know, right? 'Cause you know me so well, don't you?" Sarcasm drips off her voice, igniting that last little shred of decency I'm holding on to.

"Actually, I don't. How about you write it on a Post-it note, and tell me all about yourself." The words leave my mouth with a venomous tone to them, making the tension around us thicker than ever.

Her eyes flicker to our companions, who are oblivious to us and she brings her face closer to mine. Whispering she says, "Look, my sister has had a really hard time with men. Your friend right there," she points to Jasper, "doesn't seem like an asshole, so please do me a favor and try not to irritate me."

I feign affront. "Irritate you? Are you fucking kidding me right now?" I narrow my eyes and lower my face closer to hers. "I have been nothing but nice and polite with you, lady. I'm the one working his ass off to make _your _clients' house sellable. When was the last time you were in there with me, huh?"

"To be fair, _Eddie_," Jasper pipes up taking us out of our bubble, "I'd never met _your _Bella." He grins and extends his hand to Bella as if he hadn't met her before. "I'm Jasper, and your clients are lucky to have such a nice home."

"Clients?" Alice asks, eyeing Bella inquisitively.

"Alice, walk with me to the ladies' room, please?" Bella asks, her tone sugary sweet, but her eyes full of fire.

When they leave, Jasper explains how he really had no idea. He knew Alice's sister worked in construction, and from hearing Alice's descriptions, he thought she was a decorator.

Exasperated and desperate for a cigarette, I ask, "What's Alice's last name?"

"Brandon. But she was married and I never asked. Really man, trust me, I didn't know." His eyes are wide, pleading as he looks around. "Maybe this is your chance to get to know her."

Shaking my head, I reply, "I work for her, man. I can't do this."

I move my chair back and start getting up

"Just, talk to her. You can be friends with a woman, right?" He grins crookedly and cocks his head to the side.

And fuck if I know. I've never been friends with anyone of the opposite sex. The only female friend I have is Rosalie, and that's because she's married to my brother, Emmett.

I sit back down, resigned to the fact that I'll just have to sit here and endure it. It's only for a few hours. What's the worst that could happen?

The girls come back from the bathroom, and Bella looks a lot better. She smiles and sits next to me - across from Alice, and I can't help the sigh of relief that rolls out of me.

For some reason, the fact that she came back, looking a little less like she wants to murder me with her stare makes me feel a little better.

"You okay?" I ask, while Jasper and Alice get lost in their little bubble.

She nods and gives me a tight smile. "Yeah, you know...this is a little...weird."

"Yeah, no shit," I admit, nodding and returning my attention to our friends. Since neither of us is remotely close to pretending this is a date, I relax and order a drink.

After all, what is she going to do, fire me?

* * *

**Thank you guys! Much love...seriously!**

**I think most of your questions will eventually be answered, so no spoilers here, you guys will have to keep reading!**

**xox**

**Missy**


	5. Chapter 5

5.

The food is pretty good and the company's decent, all things considered. Or, it could just all be due to the fact that I'm nursing my third drink.

"So Eddie here," Jasper motions to me, irritating the crap out of me with the damn nickname, "starts laughing, and then Emmett goes into this rant about his truck and how it's sacred, and shouldn't be tampered with."

Shaking my head, I chuckle at the memory. Emmett had just bought his first truck, and I'd taken it upon myself - as the big brother - to unhook the battery so he couldn't start it.

Jasper was there, of course, and couldn't stop laughing as Emmett tried over and over again to start the damn thing.

Looking over at Bella, she's smiling, eyes shining, and cheeks pink. She looks so beautiful, and damn if that's not a look I want to see every day.

"Hey, it was a nineteen ninety one Jeep. In my defence, there was a strong chance the thing wouldn't have started anyway," I add and take another pull from my beer.

"It was just priceless," Jasper continues. "You have to meet Emmett, he's a hoot. Not like this emo fuck over here." Jasper motions to me and I throw him my napkin in retaliation.

"So, is Emmett your older brother?" Alice asks.

"He's younger by three years. He'd just turned sixteen, and it was my job to screw with him." I laugh, thinking back. I'd just gotten home from my first year in college, and he was all excited to show me his "toy" as he liked to call it. "He still has that damn Jeep, by the way," I add.

"My sister hates that thing." Jasper shakes his head. "She calls it a death trap. I swear, if those two weren't so perfect for each other, she'd have killed him by now...in that Jeep."

Bella furrows her brows and cuts in. "So wait, your sister," she motions to Jasper, "and your brother," she motions to me, "are married?"

I turn to her. "Yeah, I can't get away from him." With eyes wide in mock annoyance, I add, "Ever."

She giggles, and I swear the sound goes straight to my cock. "Wow, that's all kinds of incestuous, huh?"

Alice groans and scrunches up her nose. "Bella, they're not related."

Okay, so maybe Alice has also had a few too many drinks. Hell, looking at the table, we're probably all too drunk to even contemplate driving anywhere.

Bella rolls her eyes at Alice. "Duh, I know that. I was just sayin'."

"Would you guys like anything else," the waitress - Sam, I think was her name - asks.

"We were just thinking of going to the club, actually." Alice politely tells the waitress who then tells us she's going to go get our bills.

It's not that late and the club Alice wants to go to is within walking distance. It's a nice night out so we opt to walk there.

Bella and I hang back and let Alice and Jasper walk in front of us.

I keep my hands in my pocket and notice how Bella has her arms wrapped around herself, almost as if she's hugging herself.

"Everything okay?" I inquire, slowing my pace to keep in stride with hers.

"Yeah, just you know," she juts out her chin toward the bubbly couple in front of us, "they seem...happy."

I scoff. "New relationships are always great. They're in that honeymoon phase, know what I mean?"

"Yeah...just...wish they'd stay like that, I guess." Her voice is wistful, and sad. I'm almost afraid to say anything because I really don't want to be at the receiving end of any backlash.

But apparently my brain filter doesn't work when I'm drunk...or when I'm with her, for that matter.

"Yeah, tell me about it." I shake my head. "I need a smoke."

I stop abruptly on the sidewalk and watch Jasper and Alice walk into the club. Apparently neither are too worried about us.

I take out my pack and proceed to light up, keeping my eyes on hers. Inhaling deeply, I watch her lips part and her eyes darken as she licks her lips and keeps her eyes trained on my face.

Bella clucks her tongue. "You said you were trying to quit."

Breaking eye contact, I turn my head to exhale, not wanting to add fuel to the fire and send smoke in her direction.

"I will quit," I reply quietly, enjoying the feel of nicotine running through me, then add, "Someday."

She looks at me curiously, while worrying her bottom lip. Damn, she has a pretty mouth.

What I wouldn't do to those lips...

Clearing her throat she asks, "Can we go in now?"

We hang out for a few more minutes outside the club so that I can finish my cig, and I'm surprised when Bella actually stays with me.

Leaning by the door, against the building, I take her in completely. From the flat sandals she's wearing on her feet to the short denim skirt hugging her hips, all the way to the short sleeved, V-neck blouse. I hadn't noticed earlier, but she looks really nice. She always looks good. Her work attire is professional and usually consists of heels, with either skirts or slacks, but this is casual and seems more fitting to her personality.

"You look nice," I compliment, then mentally slap myself for being an asshole.

Nice, really? She's beautiful. Pretty. Fucking perfect.

Way beyond "nice."

She nods, turning away from me and doing that body hug thing, and mutters, "Thanks."

Music blares and the loud beat from the base makes the ground under our feet thump rhythmically. At least it's not country music.

"I guess we should go, huh?" I rub my hand behind my neck and stub out my smoke.

She nods, and I hold the door open, letting her walk in before me.

…

Holding my beer in one hand, with the other safely tucked away in my pocket, I stand by the bar and do some people watching.

This isn't a date.

If it were, I'd be dancing with Bella. I'd have my hands firmly planted on her body. I'd be rubbing myself all over her. We'd be swaying to the beats, hips grinding together. And dammit, thinking about it makes me hard.

I close my eyes momentarily and will my erection away.

Alcohol makes my brain all fuzzy, but I'm still able to hold myself back from even brushing up against her, which is a good thing because I would easily fuck this all up otherwise.

I watch as she stands beside Alice and Jasper; the three of them talking and laughing. I should go join them, but I'm kind of enjoying watching them.

Who am I kidding; I'm watching her, dammit.

I'm a sick fuck.

I can't remember being this...infatuated with anyone, including Angela. And she was my longest running relationship. Good thing I broke it off.

Because this feeling, like I want to reach out and touch her and make her feel good, and dammit, I want to make her smile. This feeling...it's not going away.

And it's scaring the living shit out of me.

Finishing my beer, I decide it's my last one. I need to have a clear head, and I have a feeling I'll do something regrettable if I drink anymore.

Not taking my eyes off of Bella, I make my way over to them and decide to just have a good time.

Nothing is going to happen between us.

She doesn't see me that way.

And really, she just got divorced.

"About time, man," Jasper knowingly gives me a small smile and wraps his arms around Alice who whispers something in his ear, making his face break out in a huge grin.

Jesus, I do _not _want to know...

I nod not knowing what to say. I mean really, "I'd like to rub myself all over this pretty girl over here," isn't very appropriate.

I'm pretty sure Alice would kick me, and Bella would take advantage of my position on the ground to castrate me.

As I stand there awkwardly looking around, I notice Bella doing the same. It's like Junior High all over again. Neither of us looking at each other. Well, if she's looking at me, I wouldn't know because I'm no longer looking at her.

Besides, when she does look at me, it's like I can feel it. My skin prickles all over, and I instinctively have to look in her direction. It's been like that since that first day, and has only gotten worse every time we've been in the same room.

Fucking weird. I'm thirty four years old for Christ's sake; this shit is just too much.

And just when I think things couldn't get any more awkward, Jasper and Alice walk off into the crowd of people on the dance floor.

"So..." Bella trails off.

I nod. "Yeah..."

"Dance with me?" Her eyes look up at me through her lashes and God dammit, I can't say no.

Nodding, I take her hand in mine, and swallow my nerves as my heart drums frantically in my chest.

Jesus fuck...

We make our way through the crowd as some cheesy Pitbull song blares through the speakers, making the throngs of people scream out and gyrate all over the place, pushing Bella into my chest with an audible humph.

"Shit, I'm sorry," she says as I hold her against me, my hands firmly planted on her lower back.

I look down at her face, her eyes pleading, boring into mine, and for the briefest moment, I forget everything.

Nothing matters.

Not the noise.

Not the people.

Not my job.

Not even that throbbing going on in my groin.

Praying she pulls away before I touch her, I swallow my nerves, lick my lips and lean down, ghosting my lips against hers and holding them there for the briefest moment, soaking up the feeling of having her soft lips touching mine.

That feeling - the one that makes my entire body light up and tingle - comes back tri-fold, scaring the living shit out of me.

Eyes wide, I pull back and take a deep breath, but all my senses are focused on her. All I smell is her. All I see is her. All I feel is her.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Bella." I search her eyes, but she's speechless, looking up at me in surprise, her lips still puckered and slightly parted. "Fuck, I'm so fucking sorry."

She nods and looks down between us where my hands are still holding on to her hips.

I quickly take my hands off of her, and look around. Everyone is dancing and having a good time.

I can't do this.

I probably just fucked myself over.

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I nod curtly and point to the exit. "I gotta go."

Without another word, I leave the club and go home, praying I still have a job on Monday.

* * *

**You guys...freaking hell! I'm so happy to see your pretty words! You make me smile...**

**Ok, as promised, this is completely written and WILL be complete by tomorrow night. I've been posting approximately every 12 hours...which means we have 2 more chapters after this one... And no BPOV! **

**So with that...see you tomorrow! ;o)**

**xox**

**Missy**


	6. Chapter 6

6.

Monday morning creeps up on me like a snake waiting for its prey.

I don't want to go to the house.

I don't want to see her.

That's a lie.

I want to see her, but I have a feeling she won't be there.

Actually, judging from past behavior, chances are there'll be a Post-it note attached to the front door telling me I'm fired.

Stretching out of bed, I run a hand through my hair and sigh. This is going to be a long week.

…

As expected, she doesn't show up.

And, surprisingly enough, there aren't any Post-it notes anywhere.

I kinda miss those little yellow squares.

Okay, I don't but at least it was something. Communication. Some form of contact.

My task for today is to finish painting the living room and master bedroom so the carpet guy can come in and install the carpets that go in those rooms.

All the other rooms have either hardwood or ceramic tiles, which I either installed last week or will be finishing up later this week.

…

On Tuesday, while the carpet installer is inside the house making a racket with his tools, I'm outside adding finishing touches, such as shutters and flower boxes under a few of the windows.

With the outside finally complete, I smile to myself and wonder exactly how much a home like this must cost. It's beautiful, and the landscaping is absolutely stunning. This is what I want for myself, but I know I'll have to wait because there is no way in hell I can afford this one.

But a man can dream. And I do.

Closing my eyes, I imagine myself sitting on the back porch, drinking coffee and looking out onto the water as the sun rises and greets us.

And then Bella, coming out of the back door, wearing only my flannel shirt and holding a cup of coffee in her hands.

"Fuck," I mutter to myself as I open my eyes.

With a final groan, I go inside the house and grab my list, ticking off what's been done today.

…

Wednesday and Thursday fly by as I install all the remaining baseboards throughout the house. I also make sure the kitchen and bathrooms are spotless, and that the shelving we installed in the office and living room are dust free.

On Thursday night, I call Bella to let her know that the house is ready. She doesn't answer her phone, so after the third try, I end up leaving a message.

Friday morning, I sweep the floors and clean some of the windows. It's not part of my job description, but I won't leave until she's here, even if that means staying through the night. She'll have to come see this place at some point.

…

I'm sitting on the back porch, nursing a can of Coke when I hear the back door open. Knowing who it is, I don't turn around. I can't. I've been waiting all fucking day for her. I've been sitting here for the last two hours watching the sun set over the lake and praying that I somehow get to make this right with her.

"Edward?" Her voice is soft, so different from the confident girl from a month ago.

I set my can on one of the steps and stand from my spot. Turning toward her, I take in her appearance. Her face is gaunt and her eyes tired and glassy. Furrowing my brows, I ask, "Are you okay, Bella?"

She nods and takes a tentative step toward me. "Yeah," she looks to the ground, "I'm sorry." She continues, "I should have come this week. I should have called you." She looks up, her eyes meeting mine. "You didn't do anything wrong, Edward."

I'm not sure if she's talking about the house, the other night or just me in general, so I don't comment on it. I just want to get this over with and move on.

But as if the torture of having her right here isn't enough, she's wearing fitted blue jeans that hug her ass perfectly and a t-shirt that makes her tits look spectacular, and her hair is loose, framing her face perfectly. If it weren't for the sadness in her eyes, she'd look better than ever.

I scoff. "Good. Can we just do this? Please." My voice comes out as pained and abrupt, but I don't care. She's rendered me a fucking pussy.

A coward.

Too fucking scared to do shit.

I've never been scared. Not while I was _with _Angela. Hell, not even when I broke up with her.

Nodding Bella turns and walks inside the house, holding the door open for me. "The outside looks great, by the way," she says softly, without looking back at me.

I take off my boots by the door, and follow her further inside the house.

Walking through the kitchen she looks around, assessing the trim and details I've diligently worked on perfecting so it looks like her sketch.

Wordlessly, she takes the stairs and I follow her into each room where all she does is look around in awe. Once in a while she mumbles something unintelligible under her breath, before looking at me out of the corner of her eye.

We come back downstairs and walk around each room, keeping the large living room for last.

She looks up at the fireplace, assessing the shelves and mantle, then turns to me grinning. "I can't believe you did this; the detail is exceptional."

Her smile confuses me, but it's infectious and I give her a soft smile in return. "It's my job," I admit simply with a shrug.

She shakes her head and takes a few tentative steps toward me. "No, that's not...I mean...look at it. Don't you see?"

Tilting my head to the side, I search her face. "What do you mean?"

She shakes her head, her smile blinding now, before launching herself into my arms and hugging me. "Thank you, Edward. This is perfect."

Confused, and a little - or a lot - fucking turned on, I hug her back...also, I may or may not rub myself a little on her thigh. Just a bit.

"Ehmm, you're welcome?" I breathe her in, burying my nose in her hair and holding her for what seems like forever.

I feel her nose skim softly against my throat, making my breath falter and a soft groan fall from my lips. "Did you still want to kiss me?" she whispers and her warm breath makes me shiver.

Swallowing, I nod into her hair and pull back slightly to look at her face. There aren't any more signs of sadness, all I see there is joy and...lust?

Holy shit.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" I ask softly, taking her face between my hands, and stroking her cheeks with my thumbs.

She nods slowly as her tongue peeks out of her parted lips, moistening them and making them shiny. As if she weren't enough of a temptation, she fists the sides of my flannel and pulls herself impossibly closer to me.

And I know she can feel how fucking hard I am. Dammit, and I haven't even kissed her yet.

Her warm breath washes over my face as I lower my lips to hers in a tentative kiss. She whimpers at the contact, and my breathing goes completely erratic as our kiss quickly escalates into a hot, passionate mess.

Taking her bottom lip between my lips, I suck on it lightly and trace it with my tongue as Bella takes my top lip between hers.

Bella opens her mouth to me, her tongue meeting mine as her hands roam up my chest and settle into my hair.

We kiss and kiss, frantically touching each other, but I'm trying to be a damn gentleman about it, keeping my hands safely on Bella's hips while she does the complete opposite and rubs herself against my obvious hard-on.

I'm not sure how it happens, but somewhere in my lust filled haze, my hands end up cupping her tits while my mouth descends on her collarbones, licking and nipping with my teeth. "Fuck, you taste good." Like fucking strawberries and cream and all girl...

Her hands are on my belt buckle and she's fidgeting with it, brushing her fingers against the tip of my cock as she pulls at the waist of my pants.

This is going too fast too soon, but I can't stop her. Taking her lead, I finger the edge of her shirt and pull it up, exposing her slender waist.

I feel a little lost as her hands leave my pants and she takes it upon herself to shed her shirt by pulling it over her head.

And that's when the haze sort of blurs out and reality hits me full force. "Shit Bella, are you sure about this?"

Biting her bottom lip, she pants as her eyes roam my body, and then she finally speaks, her voice coming out low and raspy. "Edward...you are the blindest man." She shakes her head. "I've been doing my best to...stay away from you. I'm not...wasn't. God," she fingers her hair, then brings her hand to my jaw, letting her fingers scratch at the stubble, "I didn't think I could be with someone so soon...and I want this, whatever it is."

Threading my fingers in her hair, I lean down and brush a kiss against her lips, once, twice. "You do realize we can't just do this once, because Bella I don't think I could ever get enough of you."

Her smile is blinding as her eyes twinkle with happiness. This is the first time I see her so free around me, and I never want to see her any other way. "Then don't stop." Her hands return to my belt, and even though this is certainly not the right place, and it's probably not the right time, I kiss her with everything I have.

Clothes are quickly discarded, but not as frantically as before. I take my time letting my hands roam over every curve and kissing every piece of exposed skin.

We're in our underwear, and as awkward as it is, I'm glad the carpet is thick and plush as I lay her back and kiss her.

Her hands are in my underwear stroking me, and I'm trying to get her bra unhooked. Apparently I've reverted back to a helpless virgin as I struggle with the damn hook. "Jesus, what is wrong with this thing," I mumble against Bella's skin, making her giggle.

She pushes me off of her and sits up, then proceeds to unhook it. "It's not that hard, Edward," she teases then pulls off the offending garment, throwing it in my face.

"Oh, yes it is _that hard_...and you're going to pay for that." I crawl on all fours toward her until I'm settled between her thighs with my mouth attached to her tits.

Her giggles turn into moans as her hands go back to my dick. Leaning on my elbow, I palm her sex over her lacy underwear, feeling the heat of her in my palm. Her hips rotate to meet my hand as I brush a fingertip up and down her core, feeling the wetness seep through the lace, clearly driving her to the brink.

"Take them off, please," she pleads, and kisses my shoulder, neck and any piece of skin she can get her mouth on.

I'm lost in her touch as I hook both sides of her delicate panties and slide them down her legs. She then lowers my boxers, as I settle back between her thighs. "Condom?" I ask, my forehead resting against her chest, breathing erratically as her hands skim up and down my back.

"I have some in my purse," she says, and I look up at her, quirking an eyebrow in question, making her giggle. "What? I'm a safety girl. Besides, I've had...fantasies about you, Mr. Cullen."

"Oh my God, Bella," I groan out against her skin and suck a taut nipple into my mouth, my dick brushing up against her slick heat.

She giggles, making her chest move and her tits jiggle. "Don't judge me. Nobody's touched me in over a year, and actually I bought the condoms this afternoon."

"So, you were expecting this?" I tilt my head to the side and sit up as she reaches toward her purse, and takes out the little black box.

"I wasn't _expecting _this," she explains as she takes one of the condoms out of the box. "But I was planning on asking you out." She crawls over to me on her knees and I help her lay down once again.

"You were? And what if I would have said no?" I challenge, kneeling between her parted legs.

She shrugs. "I wasn't thinking that far ahead, to be honest."

Opening the little foil packet, I sheath myself in latex and lower my body over hers, cradling her head between my forearms. "I've been thinking about this since the first time I heard your voice," I confess, before kissing her softly.

The carpet sort of burns my elbows and knees, but as I line myself up with her pussy, and push myself into her, everything around us disappears.

She's warm and tight around me, as she grinds her hips meeting mine thrust for thrust.

The heat we had earlier returns full force, as we both work toward our mutual release. She feels so good and I tell her over and over as she gives herself fully over to me.

Drawing her hips closer to mine, I grab onto her legs and wrap them higher around me, reaching deeper inside her with every push and pull of my hips.

Watching her face as she climbs and climbs, brings me closer to my own release. "Jesus Bella, are you close?"

Because if she's not I'm not sure how long I can hold off.

She nods and moans, unable to form words as she grinds her hips faster and faster against mine. Taking a cue from her noises, I know she's close, and just when I think I can't stand anymore, as my balls get that familiar tingle and my dick gets impossibly harder, I feel her squeeze me and pull me deep into her as she comes, calling out to God and me, and cursing words I've never heard coming out of her mouth.

I pull out of her and push back in several more times, but that burn ignites and swallows me whole as I find my own release, panting and cursing breathily.

"Shit," I mumble against her neck as I feel the squirmy rubber, full of fluids around my softening dick. I'm still breathless and trying to catch my breath as I pull out of her, making sure to hold on to the condom. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

Bella's laying on her back, relaxed with a hand behind her head and her other hand casually resting against her stomach. Looking up at me, the expression on her face clearly amused, she says, "There's a dumpster out front." She shrugs while I stand up and make my way to the bathroom to chuck it in the toilet.

When I come back into the room, I almost expect her to be getting dressed, but I find her in the same spot, still on her back and completely bare.

I feel a little awkward, standing there naked, but she seems comfortable with this, so I carefully lie down next to her and pull her into my arms.

Kissing her neck, I whisper, "Let's hope nobody tells your clients what we just did on their living room carpet, alright?"

She pulls away from me minutely and examines my face, pinching her lips together. "I don't think it'll matter." She smiles and sighs as she snuggles into me.

Pushing her hair to the side, I kiss her shoulder. "Why not?"

With her eyes trained on the fireplace in front of us, she looks up at the shelves and mantle. "This was supposed to be _my _dream house."

Her confession hits me like a ton of bricks and I pull back as a bunch of different little pieces come together for me. "Ehm, Bella?"

She turns her head and looks at me. "My ex-husband bought this land years ago. I love it here," she says wistfully. "I made plans, and worked hard making sure all the details were perfect." She smiles sadly. "My books were supposed to grace those shelves."

"So, _you _were the client?" I ask softly, sweeping some hair out of her face and holding her closer to my body.

She nods and looks away. "With the divorce, I got the house. Unfinished, of course. I just...don't know what I'm going to do with it."

"Why won't you live here?" I ask gently, smoothing my hand over her hair.

"It's a big house. I've been a real pain in your ass all summer because I just...I don't know how to let it go, you know?" When I look at her and see her watery eyes, I immediately wrap my arms tightly around her; wanting to comfort her, protect her.

I nod in understanding. This explains so many things. "Then don't."

She smiles softly. "As handy as I am," she says confidently, "I'm not sure I could take care of this place very well on my own."

* * *

**Good morning! I hope you're up for another chapter of these two...what do you think happens next?**

**xox**

**Missy**


	7. Chapter 7

7. EPILOGUE

Looking at the plans in my hands, I can't help the chuckle that escapes my lips.

Bella never noticed how I'd snuck these out of her office. I'm not sure she would have minded. After all, everything she draws up, I end up having a hand in building.

Nowadays, the offices for Swan Interiors are located on the second floor over Cullen Construction. We converted my old loft space into Bella's office. This way, it makes it easier for me to consult with her and her clients.

Together, we've been able to take on extra workers. Jasper already had a thriving business, but he works for us more than anyone else.

Alice can't be trusted with anything design wise, and she certainly can't build for shit, but she can schmooze like nobody's business. She answers the phone and keeps our busy asses organized. The customers seem to love her, so we keep her around.

I guess, all in all, it's been a wonderful couple of years filled with a bunch of ups and downs.

Ups being when I convinced Bella to keep the house because, not only was it her dream house, it was also mine. I'd only worked on the property for six weeks and had fallen completely in love with it. I couldn't imagine being in Bella's shoes, working on something for over a year and then having to sell it.

I had to promise her I'd help her out with maintaining it. It was hard at first. We barely knew each other. I mean, who does that? Who moves in with someone they've only known for a few weeks?

I guess us...'cause we did. We may have done things backward, hell, we're still doing things backward, but it works for us nonetheless.

Those downs I mentioned? They came when we'd been together for about a year. I asked her to marry me, and she said no.

Not because she didn't love me.

That was undeniable. The heat between us never flickered. Not once.

It was due to the fact that she didn't want to go through it all again. I couldn't blame her. So, being unorthodox, we settled on being perpetually engaged.

She's still mine, heart and soul, and always will be. We'll just wait until she's ready for that extra step, and if it never comes, I've come to accept that wholeheartedly.

Right now she's off with her sister and my brother's wife. The three of them are fucking scary together.

Alice and Bella instantly took Rosalie as sort of an extra sister.

Rosalie and Emmett have a couple of little ones, Riley and Jace, which made Alice and Bella instant aunties.

Oh yeah, I can't forget to tell you how Alice and Jasper got married. Yup, they eloped and everything. Around the same time that I was moving in with Bella.

Seems the Swan sisters were both a little impulsive. Hell, Jasper called them crazy. Not to their faces, of course. Bella would have my balls for that, and well, I'd like to keep those attached to my body, thank you very much.

Besides, she owns them already, just, you know, the figurative kind of ownership...where they stay attached to me.

Which is kind of ironic, since before I met her, nobody had owned any part of me.

Lighting a cig, I inhale deeply letting the smoke permeate my lungs, while I mentally calculate if I've got all the supplies I'll need gathered around me.

Four by fours, two by fours, hooks, screws, a big oak tree, a plastic slide, one by sixes, two swings...yup, all we need now is the little one.

And that'll be soon, he just needs to cook for a few more months.

I'm enjoying this cigarette, letting the plume of smoke escape my lips slowly, savoring the burn in my lungs and the sensation it brings me.

After all, I only have a few more months before I quit that shit.

I made a promise to my fiancée. When she told me she was pregnant, I promised I would quit.

I've never broken a promise I made to Bella, and I'm definitely not going to break this one.

She once confessed that the only reason she was on my ass about my smoking was because she enjoyed watching me do it too much. She thought it was sexy, watching my lips wrap around the little filter as I inhaled, or watching them pucker as I exhaled.

Hearing her confession was one of those times where I wanted to call her crazy, but didn't. Instead, I took her from behind...in the kitchen...over the counter...as she looked outside.

Yup, totally happened, I swear.

Bella was - is - an enigma. I'm still learning things about her. That woman is definitely not predictable. She keeps me on my toes, which is probably why I fell in love with her.

The only thing I can predict about her is the long list of Post-it notes that adorn her desk. It's like an inside joke for us. Fuck, I even buy her those damn things in bulk for Christmas.

Don't laugh. She loves that shit.

Anyway, now I need to figure out how to put this thing together. These plans of hers. Her vision.

A slide connecting to a treehouse with a couple of swings. It's nice and the way she has it laid out, any kid would have fun playing on it.

And we're planning on more after this one.

I love it when my nephews visit and I can't wait 'til our little one adds to the group.

Laying out the beams, I look out to the house and spot the large window. We'll be able to watch the kids play. This is unbelievably perfect.

Like the rest of the house, Bella's design fits.

She thought this up; all I'm doing is building it.

I spend a few hours outside in the mid July sun cutting and assembling pieces of wood. Alone in my thoughts, with nothing but tools and my pack of smokes.

My last one, by the way. Oh, I've mentioned this? Right...

Anyway, I make good headway attaching a structure to the large oak tree in the middle of the yard. It's hard work, trees aren't perfect, they're not straight, but in the end once everything is pulled together, it'll be fucking awesome, so all this headache is definitely worth it.

"What are you doing out here?" Bella's voice breaks me out of my concentration and I look up, meeting her surprised expression.

Smiling, I saunter over to her and rest my hands over her swollen belly. "I found these sketches and thought I'd surprise you." Feeling the baby kick against my hand, I smile and add, "Apparently this little guy likes it."

Bella's not speaking, and given our history, this is not good. "Bella?"

"I'll marry you." She nods, her eyes surveying what I've been working on all day, as a tear rolls down her cheek.

"What?" Narrowing my eyes, I lower my gaze and shift to look her in the eye.

"Ask me again. I'll say yes, Edward. You're just... I'll say yes." She nods in emphasis, her eyes wide and full of happy tears.

I huff. "What is it with you, Swan? I always have to ask twice, huh?" My tone is playful, and while I say this, I take her hand in mine and get down on one knee. "Isabella Swan, would you _finally _do me the honor of being my wife?"

She throws herself in my arms and hugs me, repeating yes, yes, yes...

And that's when I know I've done it. I've worked hard. We've worked together.

It took a while.

But I fixed Bella.

THE END

* * *

**Awwww...toothache? Meh, I like toothaches...**

**Thank you guys so much for taking this ride with me. It was challenging, but I think these two found the HEA they needed.**

**I know we haven't dealt into BPOV, but does it matter who she was married to or why she was divorced? She was broken and standoffish when she met Edward, and with a little coaxing was able to let herself be loved again.**

**Don't we wish we could all have that? lol**

**Anywho, a huge thanks to my chickies for taking this ride with me. It was a fun challenge given the time limitation and whatnot. Hopefully we'll do this again!**

**'Til next time,**

**xox**

**Missy**


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